Too good to be true
by MarlleneMilton
Summary: Bilbo is head over the heels for Thorin, but thinks the man is too good for him. He couldn't be more wrong. WARNING: unhealthy relationship, mentions of violence


He's standing on the opposite side of the road. His blue eyes bore into mine. I can't breathe.

He runs into me when the parade ends. My whole body is vibrating from the proximity. Such beautiful eyes, why would they be looking at me with such intensity?

He stands in front of the crowd. Strong, regal, majestic. I can't focus on anything but the way his lips are moving. I have to turn away from him lest he sees my face burning from the thoughts and images filling my mind.

He comes to me after the speeches. He's talking to me, asking my opinion. I don't understand why.

He wants my phone number. I give it to him without a second thought. He is just being polite, surely he won't call.

He shows up at the café the next week. My heart starts beating rapidly as he orders. His hand touches mine when he pays for the drink.

He wants to see me again. Says he wants to keep seeing me. Who am I to refuse him?

He takes me up to the hill behind the city. When we are looking at the confluence, he slides his finger over my jaw and kisses me lightly.

He smiles at me and I feel every worry I've had to leave me. The world gets a bit better every time he smiles.

He calls me every day to ask about my studies, my free time or just to say hi. We talk for hours and it makes me miss him terribly.

He introduces me to his friends. They all seem to like me, but I didn't pay them too much attention. Why should I when I have the most wonderful man by my side.

He buys me presents, takes me to expensive restaurants. He says he does it to make me happy. What he doesn't see is that he is my happiness.

He whispers to me that no one will ever harm me. I'll always protect you, my love. That's what he says and I believe him.

He's charming as always when I bring him to my parents. They love him already from what I´ve told them about him. He puts his hand on my lower back and presses his side to mine when I open the present he gives me. I've never been happier.

He lays me on the bed and pushes in gently. I moan with pleasure as he moves inside me. This is what I've dreamt of. This is my heaven.

His fingers dig deeper into my hips, it hurts, but the pain feels amazing. The harder he presses, the bigger are the bruises. I love to watch them grow later in the mirror. They are the proof that I am his and he is mine.

He looks straight into my eyes and I can´t for the love of me look away. He absorbes me completely. I'm his to do as he pleases.

He pushes me into the dark and presses me against the wall. His kisses are hard and filthy and I enjoy every second of it. My body screams with want and I press against him to get closer to the heat he radiates, to be part of him.

He tells me to stay in bed with him. School can wait, the café can manage for a day or week. I stay.

He pushes me into a closet and locks it. I scream and kick at the door until I'm too tired to move.

He bites and licks at my throat. My skin is red from all the attention. I squirm and moan, tug at his long hair, twining the soft, beautiful black locks between my fingers.

He strikes and strikes again. Harder and stronger with every blow. My vision is blurred, my face is burning from the assaults and I feel blood dripping down my cheeks.

He says he loves me. Begs me to take him back. I can't see him broken like this. I forgive him. I always forgive him.

He keeps shouting at me, insults every single thing about me. I cry, but don't say anything in return. I only feel the pain from my wounds. And the pain slowly building in my heart.

He throws me on the table and puts a cloth in my mouth. My hands are bound. I don't have time to notice when he strips me before I feel the cold from the apartment on my backside. I try to get free from the bindings, but they are tight. I beg him through the cloth, but he doesn´t hear me, doesn´t stop. Then I feel only pain piercing me through. Later I find pleasure in the pain of being taken by him like this, claimed properly. He wants no one else, but me. I deserve this.

He's angry when I say I want to go out. Says it's dangerous out there for me. Reminds me what happened to my parents. He's right. He only wants me to be safe.

He makes me tea when I'm sick, brings me more pills and medicine. He says I don't need doctors when I have him.

He drinks the coffee I make him, just as always. I watch him take a sip after sip with delight, waiting for it to start working. He thanks me for it and I feel disgusted with myself. He starts trembling and coughing. The newspaper falls from his hands and he grabs the table tightly. He lifts his eyes to mine and I see the look of utter betrayal and confusion in them. The one question written all over his pained face. I can't take it anymore. I run to him when he slides down from the chair. I hug him desperately, kiss his brow and cheeks. His hair is getting wet from my tears , he's clutching at my shirt and my ears are filled with muffled sounds as he chokes. His body shakes violently and then it finally goes limp in my arms. I can't let go. I run my fingers through his hair for the last time.

He's gone. I'm free.


End file.
